


don't let go

by dinglehorton



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, post monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18088595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinglehorton/pseuds/dinglehorton
Summary: two conversations, during and post-Monster removal.





	don't let go

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. and if i fiddle with this story anymore than i already have it's never gonna get posted lol. so i hope you enjoy my first foray back into writing fic in nearly a year :)

“You care about him,” Eliot— _no, The Monster_ — says with no emotion, almost as if he doesn’t understand. Quentin thinks that given everything, he probably _doesn’t_ understand. He’s still not sure he understands any of this. Magic being real is one thing, but multiple timelines and different lives, it’s a lot even for Quentin to take in let alone a monster so childlike it's almost laughable. The Monster squints at him like he's peering into the depths of Quentin's soul, “No. You _love him._ ”

“Shut up,” Quentin growls out, stepping back and away from The Monster. Eliot has always been taller, the lanky one, but with The Monster running the show he somehow seems to loom even taller. 

“He knows that you love him,” The Monster says and then sneers at something unseen in the distance—Eliot fighting back? Quentin wishes that he could know for sure, wishes for some sign that Eliot is still fighting in there to come back to them. 

“Can I talk to him?” Quentin asks, feeling desperate to reach out and touch Eliot. But he doesn’t, _can’t_ when he’s still like this. “ _Please._ ”

The Monster’s face twists, annoyed or angry or frustrated, but Quentin’s not sure which. He’s mumbling something under his breath, and then there’s a flash of something— Eliot’s gaze changes and he looks more like himself for the first time in weeks. Confused and terrified, but he’s Eliot again.

“Quentin? Oh god, Q,” Eliot rushes forward and throws his arms around him, temporary relief washing over both of their faces. 

“Eliot? We’re coming. We’re all together, and we’re coming. Just hold on a little longer, okay?” Quentin mutters against Eliot’s chest tripping over his own words as he goes, ignoring the stench of sweat and tequila. After a silent pause, they step apart, but Eliot stays close and for once Quentin doesn’t back away. Quentin is trying to be strong for Eliot's sake, but he's just as terrified.

“Don’t leave,” Eliot begs, latching onto Quentin’s hand with his own like it’s a lifeline. 

“ _Never_ , El, never. We’re coming, I promise. No matter what.”

And then he’s gone. Eliot’s eyes are lifeless and dull again, but The Monster is looking at him with the same smirk from before. Quentin resists the urge to punch the smile off his face only because even if it's not Eliot, it’s still Eliot’s body. And now he has proof that Eliot is still in there, still ready to fight. 

The minute long conversation stokes the fire raging in him though. Quentin is more determined than ever to bring Eliot home, whatever the cost.

——

When they finally get The Monster to leave Eliot and then find a way to kill the new body he inhabits so no else can ever be possessed, Eliot sleeps for nearly a week. Margo and Quentin take turns curling up next to him, sometimes even managing to squeeze all three of them on one bed. But Quentin never leaves Eliot’s side, remembering the promise he had made him. Even if it ends up being awkward when Eliot wakes, it’ll be worth it, Quentin thinks as he watches Eliot and Margo sleeping. The morning light cuts across Margo’s face on the sixth day, and she reluctantly takes it as her cue to get back to the work she has waiting for her in Fillory. 

“Love you,” she whispers before kissing both Quentin and Eliot’s foreheads. She's become even more tactile since his return, more protective of the _both_ of them. Quentin smiles at her, squeezing her hand to reassure her that they'll be okay until she returns. “I’ll be back. Food?”

“Maybe send Josh in an hour,” Quentin says, not wanting to stir Eliot anymore than they already have. “It’s the most relaxed he’s looked since—“

Margo nods when he trails off, a silent agreement to never bring that _thing_ up ever again. The door clicks behind her and it takes Eliot only a second to cuddle closer to Quentin once she’s gone. It’s not as awkward as Quentin had expected. Eliot’s warmth is comforting and now that he’s had a shower he smells like _Eliot_ again, it feels real. And if Quentin feels a sense of security with Eliot’s arm wrapped around his waist, then he’s definitely not going to complain.

“I’m not made of glass,” Eliot says softly after a moment of silence and presses his face into Quentin’s chest.

He knows deep down that Eliot is a lot stronger than most people give him credit for. He hides behind so many masks, but Quentin sees Eliot for the man that he truly is--brave and loving and loyal. It doesn't stop him from feeling protective, though. “I know.”

“Okay.” There’s a moment, a pause where Eliot thinks that maybe he won’t have to say anything more to make Quentin understand. “I love you.”

“El—“ Quentin murmurs and shifts a bit so he can completely wrap both of his arms around Eliot in return.

“No. I— I promised myself in there that I would be brave the next time I saw you.”

“You already _are_ brave,” Quentin says, pressing his lips to the top of Eliot’s head. It should probably feel a bit strange talking like this after the months they've endured with The Monster, but it feels right. They’d passed out together in the same bed after plenty of long nights and drunken parties, but this time feels more intimate. It feels like all the years they spent together at the mosaic all rolled into one. It feels more natural and safe than anything else on the entire planet. 

It feels like _home_.

“I’m brave because of you,” Eliot says, and when Quentin laughs like it’s the furthest thing from the truth he nudges him in the ribs. “It’s true, Q. You saved me. You never gave up.” 

They’re quiet for a bit and Quentin thinks that maybe Eliot’s fallen back asleep, but when Josh arrives with food an hour later, Eliot’s actually awake and suggesting they eat lunch with the others.

“I can’t hide away forever,” Eliot says when Quentin moves to question the idea, concern written all over his face.

“I guess you wouldn't be Eliot Waugh, if you did,” Quentin quips with a smile and it feels good to joke, to laugh about something so minuscule after everything they’d been through. They extract themselves from bed once Josh has disappeared back to the kitchen and Quentin pulls Eliot to him after they’ve both dressed in the clothes Margo had left out for them. Eliot presses even closer to Quentin’s chest, hugging him for as long as he can. When they finally pull apart, Quentin is smiling up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “God I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Eliot says and Quentin immediately knows that he's going be okay, that _they're_ going to be okay.

They still have so much to talk about, so much to say that they hadn't talked about after remembering their time together at the mosaic. They still have to find a way to get Penny back to himself, to fix a myriad of issues in Fillory and with the Library. But for now, it's enough that Quentin can lace his fingers with Eliot’s and just be _together._

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi @waughliot on tumblr :)


End file.
